


An Unlikely Friend (Battle for Azeroth-Whump With Story)

by EvilApril



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Being Lost, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bromance, Carrying, Conflict, Developing Friendships, Dragging, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies, Enemies to Friends, Epic Battles, Epic Bromance, Epic Friendship, Fever, Friendship, Gen, Head Injury, Healing, Human/Troll Relationship, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Infection, Injury, Life Debt, Magic, Magic-Users, Major Character Injury, Major Illness, Major Original Character(s), Male Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Major Spoliers, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, POV Original Character, Paladins, Poison, Poisoning, References to Illness, Sick Character, Sickfic, Survival, Team Feels, Trapped, Unconsciousness, Whump, Whump With Story, Wilderness Survival, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth Spoilers, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-06-10 22:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilApril/pseuds/EvilApril
Summary: After a fight to the death a Paladin intends to sacrifice himself to save his allies, however having survived he finds himself trapped with an enemy, a Zandalari Troll. After both getting off on a bad start, the Human soon discovers that to survive the humid, unforgiving Jungle they would need each other. Something drives the Troll to help and the Human Paladin isn't sure of his motives, in the end he gets his answers.(Both suffer injuries)





	1. Trapped

The white and golden armoured Paladin rose his great sword just in time to parry the incoming swords of an Orc Warrior, his slashes where erratic, no thought process passing though his thick green head. His broad, muscular stature not a threat to the human, his small tusks not at all distracting. The sound of battle could be heard for miles, the cries of pain all too familiar. The smell of blood something the Paladin was all to use to, so much so that he barely noticed the stench. The Orc in front of him moved more like a Rouge with his duel wield swords, his feet quick, attacks following one after the other. The Paladin struggled at first with his two-handed sword, his attacker more nibble than him. The Human could feel the sweat beneath his amour, his hair drenched under his helmet. The thick jungle around him generating an unbearable humidity. A cry of anger suddenly stood out from the rest, it caught the Paladin’s attention immediately. The roar of the beast behind made the Paladin remove one hand from his sword, half his body turned towards the charging Tauren. The bull walked upright like a man, snout long, brown fur thick.  The Paladin’s arm reached back and as he did a hammer of blinding pale-yellow light formed in his hand, with all his strength he launched it at the Tauren. It crashed into the blood splattered snout of the beast, making a clank against the metal nose ring as it knocked the Tauren back violently into the trunk of a vine covered tree.

Before the Paladin’s hand could once again take its place back on the hilt of his weapon, he had to parry another wild attack from the Orc. He did so, but only just, one of the Orc’s swords grazing his chest plate. Fellow members of the Alliance battled around him, but non-could come to his aid, this he knew. He watched man and woman fall one after the other, but still he stood. There deaths giving him the strength to push on. Having continually parried the Orc’s desperate attacks, the Orc had grown tiered and no longer was so fast on his feet. The Paladin spotted the opportunity he had been waiting for and focused his power. He rose his sword into the air and in doing so a sword of light reached out from the ground piercing through he orcs leg, it cried out. The sword then dispersed into the air, pain bringing the Orc to his knees. The Paladin then brought his sword back down onto the Orc’s head, almost severing it from the body.

It took some force to remove the blade from the creature’s twitching corpse, but once free the Paladin realised him, and a group of Alliance were being forced towards a cliff. All that waited at the bottom was a rocky grave. The Paladin imbedded his sword in a male Blood Elf that had foolishly tried to attack in his line of sight, he then drove his blood covered sword into the ground. The Paladin did not regret his rash decision. Cracks of light formed around him and a large group of Horde, the light stunning the Horde.

“Run!” The Paladin ordered his allies, non-wanting to do so lingered looking to each other. “Go!” He shouted louder, this time the group of Alliance scrambled away from the cliffs edge. The Horde around them still dazed, unable to stop them. The Paladin closed his eyes, having decided his fate, the Horde only just recovering from the stun didn’t have a chance to take a step before the Paladin twisted his sword which was still deep in the earth. The cracks of light burst with energy and the cliffs edge collapsed, taking the Paladin and a large number of Horde to their grave.

* * *

He felt a large weight onto of him, his eyes creaked open. Darkness surrounded the Paladin, silence consumed him. If the battle still raged above he would be able to hear the cries of battle, the clashing of weapons, feel the thudding of feet above, of bodies hitting the grass and dirt. He heard nothing but his own heavy breathing. First, he tried to move his legs, he could feel them, but they were pinned to the ground, just like his torso and left arm. However, his head, right shoulder and arm were not. Using his one free arm he attempted to rid the stone that trapped him, but he was weak only now noticing the blood trickling down the side of his head. He ripped his helmet off, it clattered to the side, letting his short blonde hair free. Channelling the light from within to his free hand, the Paladin summoned a ball of light in his palm. The pale-yellow ball illuminated the cave he was trapped in, but his breath was taken from him when the light revealed an unusual looking Troll laying not far from him. Rocks trapped one of the Troll’s arms as he lay on his front, face pointing right at the Paladin. The Horde Troll’s damaged armour revealed the pale blue skin underneath and unusual bright yellow spiralling tattoos he had never see a Troll wear before. His tusks where also shorter and seemed more delicate like females. His long blue hair, which was around two shades darker than his skin colour, was tied up and rested on his back.  A groan that was not the Paladin’s suddenly broke the silence in the small cave, the Paladin went to disperse the light in his hand, play dead till the Troll found a way out. But its yellow eyes snapped open, locking onto his own Dimond blue eyes. The Troll tried to scramble back to no avail, his arm securely pinned. His movement kicked up dust, the newly formed ceiling above them made unsettling noises.

“Vazo Kazar Vazo ka” The Troll coughed in his native language, his eyes not leaving the Human Paladin.

“Stay back Troll.” The Paladin replied, not sure what else to say.

“I said, ya attack, ya die.” The Troll replied in common, this was a surprise to the Human, never had he met a Troll who spoke with his tongue. The Troll’s eyes finally moved from the Human’s, his main focus now getting his arm free.

“Does it look like I can?” The Troll looked at the Human via the corner of his eye, the light in the Paladin’s palm casting a shadow on one side of the Troll’s pale blue face.

“All Alliance be dangerous.”

“Then how come you speak Common.” The Paladin was working on getting himself free, his plan to keep the Troll talking until he could call upon enough light to shatter the rocks pinning him.

“I speak many tongues.” The Troll replied still manoeuvring rocks off his arm, the Paladin watched his three fingers clench and release as he attempted to get blood circulating.

“But how do you speak Common, someone from the Alliance must have taught you.” The Troll stopped what he was doing, exactly what the Paladin wanted.

“Mon, ma people ‘ave been around before da Titans came to Azeroth, ma people watched ya tongue grow.”

“Impressive, but even with all that knowledge…” The Paladin stalled. “You will never beat the Alliance.” The Human placed his hand on the large slab of rock pinning him to the floor, the light that had once granted him sight in the darkness now seeped through the stone, cracks of light forming like before. The Paladin rolled his fingers into a fist and the rock shattered into pieces, allowing him to push them off with one arm. Once completely free the Paladin wasted no time in getting to his feet. His hammer of light only just formed in his hand when the Troll charged into him pinning him against the cave wall. The Troll’s tusks where inches from his face, his breath was foul and unpleasant. In truth he knew he didn’t smell all that great either, the heat of battle a distinct odour. The Troll pulled him on and off the wall slamming him harder each time, but with a mighty swing the hammer of light collided with the side of the Troll’s face, bashing him to one side. His hold on the Human being released. With hammer still in hand he went to swing again at the pale blue Troll, but he rolled avoiding the attack. The light of the hammer gave them sight, without it the room would be plunged into darkness, this the Troll knew. He seized a large rock in his hand, waiting for the man to ever charge or throw the hammer, either way the Troll knew he could put out the light. The Human charged, his mind not being as strategic as it had been during the battle. The Troll dodged, and the Paladin found himself cornered with his back turned. Suddenly a hand pushed him face first into the wall, the hand that held the hammer was suddenly crushed with the rock the Troll had armed himself with. The Human cried out in pain as the hammer evaporated and his eyes were met with darkness once again. With his other hand against the wall, he summoned all the light he could muster, he called upon his inner strength. Light suddenly blinded them both, the Troll was launched back, and the wall crumbled under the Paladin’s hand. He quickly stumbled into fading daylight.


	2. Saviour

The jungle had an orange tint on its upper canopy, few sun shafts able to reach the jungle floor. The battle they had fought in had long since ended, when it began the Paladin recalled the sun having only just been in the sky for a few hours. The Human could now witness the damage of the rockfall he had created, the mangled bodies of Horde surrounded him, crushed beneath him, limbs poking out in places. It was clear to the Paladin that the light had spared him, he yet had a place in the world. A rustle in the bushes startled the Human, he turned towards the noise, raising his uninjured fist ready for a fight. He could not yet form his hammer of light, still too weak. A raptor suddenly jumped on his back, claws slightly piercing through his armour, he felt the front, black sharp claws cut his cheek as he pulled the creature from his back with one hand. From the bush the rustlings initially came from, two more brightly coloured raptors jumped at him. The Human kept his eyes open, hands up shielding his face. Death would not yet find the Paladin as two large axes imbedded themselves into the two leaping raptors, the Troll stood at the mouth of the cave they had been trapped in. Shocked by what had just occurred the Paladin failed to notice the raptor at his feet regain itself, it quickly latched onto his unarmoured leg, having lost the protective plate possibly in the fall. He felt each individual knife-like tooth slide its way into his flesh. He punched the raptor in the eye, but still it did not release him, he cried out.

“Quite!” The Troll demanded, trying to keep quite himself. He pulled his axes from the dying raptors and brought one down on the green raptors tail. The pain made it open Its mouth, allowing the Human to fall back and scramble away. The creature then leaped at the Troll, digging into his flesh through the heavily damaged leather and plate chest piece. Using one hand he swatted the animal away before decapitating it with his weapon.  Both Human and Troll stared at each other, both trying to catch their breath.  Both seemed to be waiting for the other to make a move, the Troll spoke first.

“We must go, da blood attracts many.” He informed, the Human did not move. This prompted the Troll to offer his hand, even though it was clearly reluctantly. The Paladin refused it, getting to his feet himself. He clutched his broken hand, cradling it. It kept his find off his leg slightly burning with pain as blood leaked from the raptor bite.

* * *

The Paladin wasn’t sure why he limped along after the Troll, blood still gliding down his leg, the pain getting worse.  He wasn’t sure why the Troll wanted him to follow either, the two of them just having tried to harm each other.

“We find wata’, we clean up, den we be on own path.” The Troll answered as if the Paladin had questioned him outload. He still kept his distance, the dense shrubbery easy for the Troll to slip into and disappear. At this point the Human only just noticed the Troll did not slouch like the ones he had come to know through battle, but the thought soon past as the shrubbery was think vines threatening to entangle him. Light was now fading fast, dark shadows where being cast all around them, hiding creatures that could certainly kill him.

“Why help me?” The Human asked, generally curious. It took a moment for the Troll to reply.

“I help ya, ya help me.”

“I don’t need your help.” The Paladin mumbled, but the Troll’s long pointed ears heard every word. He spun round pinning the Human to the tree with his muscular forearm

“Ya sure about dat?” The Troll asked, his stare not wavering. Lost for words, not a single comeback straying into thought, the Human simply said nothing. He just returned the unbreakable stare. “Dat what I thought.” The Troll released the man, the Human watched to make sure the Troll didn’t go for the axes slotted in his leather belt. They then walked in silence for what felt like hours, thankfully they stumbled upon water. The Troll stood by the pond and began to remove his damaged armour and laid his weapons to one side. Leaving him bare chest with a pair of dark brown leather knee length trousers with a golden trim. The Human watched the Troll crouch down and began cleaning his wounds, he was surprised with how vulnerable the Troll was letting himself be. Knowing he too had wounds that would easily get infected, especially in the climate he found himself in, the Paladin had no choice but to follow suit.

The light within him still returning, he couldn’t afford to waste any of it on healing small cuts that he could tend to, healing his broken hand was more important.

* * *

Using his still working hand the Human just managed, with difficulty, to remove the heavy plate amour. His damaged hand throbbed with pain, at this point the Paladin regretted not having studied more in the art of healing. One skilled in such area, even with the light still replenishing would be able to heal such a wound. He now stood in a sweat stained white tunic, and black leather trousers. He reattached his belt and sword sheath to his back, hoping he would find another weapon. He then knelt by the water, splashing the cool refreshing liquid on his face, cleaning off the layers of dried and fresh blood from the side of his face. His head wound no longer bled, but the area was still painful and the unpleasant, a slight dizziness remained. The Human looked up at the Troll his tattoos now completely visible, the yellow hook like shapes and swirls was something he had never seen before on a Troll.

“What’s your name?” The Paladin decided to ask.

“Zih’rak” The Troll simply replied, silence followed between them. Strange birds sung around them, the sound of splashing water pleasant, even with the horrible humidity. A sheen of sweat covered the Human, the Troll however seemed to not be affected by the heat.

“Are you not going to ask mine?”

“No.” The Human couldn’t help but be offended, he did not recall the fact that he had just tried to kill Zih’rak.

“It’s Rylan, if you care.”

“I don’t.” Zih’rak replied bluntly, more awkward silence sifted through the air. Both continued to clean their wounds, soon the water in front of Rylan was stained red, he wished he had drank from it before he had washed the blood from his face.  After finishing cleaning his leg wound, he ripped both sleeves off his tunic before cleaning them and wrapping them around his leg. Happy with his first aid he moved closer towards the bushes to where the water was free of dirt and blood, a tree’s branches hung over the pond just in front of him. Seconds later a shot came from his left.

“Move!” Zih’rak commanded, Rylan looked up in confusion to find a snake staring him down from the branch hanging in front. The Paladin remained on one knee, frozen in place. “I said move!” Zih’rak rushed over and pulled Rylan away from the snake, however this movement startled the reptile causing it to strike. Zih’rak rose his arm defensively protecting his face. The snake struck his arm and was locked on for a second before he pulled the long black slim snake free, throwing it into the bush.

“Go now.” Zih’rak suddenly told Rylan, he refused to look his way. strangely the Paladin didn’t move, conflicting thoughts kept him in place.  The Troll turned his back to Rylan, he cradled the arm that had been bitten.

“You have weapons how will I know you won’t circle back around and attack me.” Rylan questioned. Zih’rak took the axes from the side of the pond and tossed them at the Paladin’s feet, the Troll then sat by his ruined amour and stared into the pond.

“Leave.”  Zih’rak again said.

“You know this jungle don’t you, you can find us a way back to a path we both recognise.” Rylan admitted to himself that without his amour, one good hand and his energy depleted he was simply dinner for the wildlife. Even though he would normally rather die than ask for help from a Troll, but the Troll had strangely saved his life twice. If he wanted him dead he would be.

Zih’rak did not reply. knowing he needed the Troll, Rylan was going to get him to help him either way.

“If you will not lead me willingly, I will make you.” Zirak turned to inspect the Paladin, in his hands he held the axes. The wooden handles were worn, the metal edges of the axe head sharp but chipped and still stained with the blood of Alliance and raptors.

“Wat ya gonna do, Kill me.” The Troll laughed, he turned back to the water, it beautifully reflected the canopy above. “Da snake already beat ya to dat.” Rylan lowered his weapons. “Mon, ya killin me now would save me havin’ to do it lata’, so go ahead.”

“Then you have nothing to lose, if you wanted me dead you would have let the raptors eat me, let the snake bite me.” It didn’t feel right to force a dying man’s hand like this, even if he was a Troll. His mind was still in a state of shock due to fact that Zih’rak had just given his life for his own, that was of course if Zih’rak was telling the truth.

“Wat ya want mon, to watch?” Zih’rak asked, Rylan sensed distress and frustration in his tone.

“I want you to take me to safety.” Rylan pointed his axes at their original wilder. The Troll had saved him, Rylan felt conflicted, his behaviour feeling wrong. However, Zih’rak was Horde and that’s all Rylan kept telling himself. Zih’rak finally turned and looked at him a heavy shadow cast on one side of him, the last of the sun’s rays now slipping out of sight, the birds no longer sang, but the beasts of the night would soon begin their hunt.

“Just kill me Human.” Zih’rak turned away again, Rylan for a split second could truly see in the Trolls yellow eyes that all he wanted was to die. So that’s what would be his reward.

“You said the snake bite will kill you, a slow painful death I presume.” Rylan began, the Troll’s ears pricked, his attention clearly caught. “If you bring me to safety I will give you a swift death.” Zih’rak got to his feet without a word and slowly turned to face Rylan.

“Swear on it.”

“I give you my word.” Rylan put a fist to his chest, a respectful manner that he would never imagen using on a member of the Horde.

“Den we ‘ave ourselves a deal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed would appreciate if you would leave a like and comment, love to know what people think. See you soon


	3. Journey

The build-up of sweat in his hands, due to holding the filthy blood-stained axe, was becoming uncomfortable. The only light that remained as they waded through the weeds and vines was seconds from disappearing, the moon ready to take over.

“We should find somewhere to rest for the night.” Rylan suggested, with his vison now limited, darkness surrounding him, each sound seemed to echo in his ears. Not only that but his leg did indeed hurt, blood now stained the makeshift bandage wrapped around the wound.

“We keep movin’.” Zih’rak told him, as he led the way.

“What about the beasts that dwell in these parts?!” Rylan didn’t mean to raise his voice; his frustration got the better of him.

“We keep movin’.” Zih’rak repeated calmly. Rylan planted one of the axes into a nearby tree, the force of the motion sending a tingle up his arm as the metal collided with wood. The Human then reached out taking the Troll’s arm in hand, stopping him from taking another step.

“We stop for the night.” Rylan ordered, the other axe he held ready for use.

“We stop, I die before ya safe.” Zih’rak didn’t try to attack, he didn’t even turn or try to free his arm from Rylan’s grip.

“We will continue at first light, when we can see our enemy before they see us.” The Troll’s head snapped to the right, his ears hearing something the Human couldn’t. In a swift motion he ripped his arm free and latched his three fingers around the hilt of the axe stuck in the tree, yanking it free causing Rylan to jump back. But just when Rylan thought the Troll was going to attack him he propelled the axe into a nearby bush, a screech responded before a menacing beast stumbled out before dropping to the floor.

“Ya want to rest, we rest.” The Troll finally agreed. “But ya will kill me before da sickness takes me.” The Troll approached the dying dinosaur, wrenching his axe free causing the beast to take its last breath. “Whetha’ ya reached safety or not.”  Zih’rak finished. Rylan took a moment to think, not sure how long the Troll would be able to go on, and whether his advice to continue was worth taking.

“We rest.” Was all he managed to reply in the end.

* * *

A shelter was quickly found, Zih’rak defiantly seeming to know a lay of the land. The cave Zih’rak had found was thankfully unoccupied, it wasn’t that deep, going into the earth only a few meters. Rylan made himself useful, having gathered wood ready for a fire, not that he was sure they were going to need one. Rylan had been wrong when he expected the night to be cooler, in fact it was the opposite. The humidity seemed to have doubled, his skin seeming to burn without the sun being visible. As Rylan returned with the wood, Zih’rak also returned carrying a hand full of pastel green mushrooms.

“Get da fire goin’.” Zih’rak commanded instead of asked, Rylan paused for a moment debating whether to challenge to Troll. In the end he did not. Zih’rak sat back against a fallen rock not far from where Rylan was attempting to start the fire, his damaged hand not allowing him to easily strike stone on stone. In the end with his good hand Rylan reached out and cast a burst of light, the small burst of light enough to set fire to a few twigs. Rylan waved his hand over it, forcing more oxygen into the flames, causing the fire to spread. In the corner of his eye the Human spotted Zih’rak offer up a mushroom impaled by a stick.

“How long ya been a Paladin?” Zih’rak asked as Rylan took the stick from him.

“I trained since I was a boy, only when I was eighteen winters old did I earn the title.” Again, Zih’rak continued to surprise Rylan, a civilized conversation the last thing he expected from a Troll.

“What god gives ya your power?” Zih’rak questioned, it was clear he was looking for answers, but Rylan wasn’t sure why.

“No god gives me the power of the light.” Rylan hovered the mushroom on his stick over the blazing fire. The orange flames generating a glow around the room, casting shadows where they could. “Faith in the light gives me my power, my strength.”

“Ya lie.” The Troll’s tone changed, the calm voice now tainted by anger and disbelief.

“I speak the truth.” Rylan turned to Zih’rak offended by the accusation.

“Faith don’t give ya power, da light of Rezan bestows it on those who be worthy.” Zih’rak spoke with conviction, the words he spoke fact from his view point.

“Your wrong.” Rylan snapped, even though not sure of what Zih’rak meant.

“If I be wrong, heal ya hand. Heal dis bite dat will take my life.” The Troll wanted to shout, to yell, that much was clear. Taking his words as a challenge, Rylan placed his food aside. His good hand reached out, fingers outstretched over his bruised broken hand. He closed his eyes calling on the power he knew hid within, calling on the power of healing was a skill all could learn. However, Rylan had chosen to take the art of battle over healing.

“Light from within, I call to you to heal my wound so that I may take up arms once more and bring justice to those who deserve it.” Rylan spoke the words with true belief, his faith guiding the words from his mouth. Zih’rak watched as light glowed from his hand, Rylan’s face scrunched slightly, sweat dripping down his face and off his nose. Seconds later the light dispersed and the Human slouched exhausted, his breath was heavy and his body clearly weak. Zih’rak thought he was going to pass out then and there but he soon sat up, looking at his no longer bruised hand as he stretched his fingers. Testing the newly healed bones. Zih’rak said nothing as he took a bite from his roasted mushroom, leaving the Paladin to catch his breath.

* * *

The night wasn’t pleasant, having healed his hand had left Rylan drained, he couldn’t even contest when Zih’rak said he would take first watch. He simply had to trust the Troll truly didn’t want him dead, and with all the evidence backing this fact, he was starting to actually believe it. Rylan was in and out of sleep for what felt like hours, each time his eyes creaked open the night was still young, moon high in the sky. The now dying fire crackled as embers struggled to stay alive, their glow still just giving sight in the cave. Rylan tried to move into a more comfortable position, his damp sweaty cloths clung to his skin, he ran his hand through his short dirty blond hair. Dirt aged his face, His stubble now more visible. He watched fresh sweat drip off his slim noes, he could barely keep open his wide tired eyes. Still finding no comfort on the stone floor Rylan rolled off his back and onto his side, facing towards the fire. His eyes found Zih’rak laying on the ground, appearing to be asleep. The sight forced Rylan to be more alert, his eyes no longer wishing to be closed, panic setting in that no one had been guarding them in the dangerous jungle. Anger brought Rylan to his feet, anger with himself for trusting the Troll to take the first watch. He took a couple of shaky steps on his bad leg before he noticed something was wrong. Zih’rak lay on his back, having seen no sweat on the Troll previously, Zih’rak was now as drenched as him. His lip trembled as if cold, his body shaking every now and then. His slim face was scrunched in pain as he clutched his snake bitten arm. Approaching slowly and kneeling by the Troll, Rylan moved aside The Troll’s few fingers to get a look at the bite on his forearm. The two small holes where the razor-sharp fangs had plunged had gone from barely visible to red raw, the veins around it turning a dark green. Rylan left Zih’rak alone after taking one axe from his side, before sitting by the front of the cave, watching over them both. Unusual calls came out from the jungle, animal cries he had only heard before from the comfort of the camp that had just been set up on the edge of the unforgiving jungle.

“Light protect us.” Rylan mumbled, his hope of returning home in the hands of a dying Troll.

* * *

The night was long, and Rylan could do nothing against the call of sleep, he had remined awake for many hours after finding Zih’rak in an unpleasant condition. It did indeed hurt him to see the Troll in such a state, he just kept being remined of the many times that Zih’rak had saved his life and that he gave his life to do so. But Rylan knew he was missing something, he wanted to know why the Troll accepted his death so willingly, this information he deemed he required to know. With the sun having just rose the Paladin found himself woken by a ray of sun on his eyes, having fallen asleep on his side, facing out towards the jungle. He reluctantly sat up, still tired even after having slept. His body and cloths smelt horrible, a layer of grim now building up on his skin. The climate was no less unbearable, but least was an improvement from the night. He sat up and turned around, slowly not to jostler his leg too much. The fire lay dead, it long since gone cold and the Zih’rak remained on his back where Rylan had last witnessed him. Picking up the axe as he stood, Rylan again approached the Troll. Holding the top of the hilt he poked Zih’rak in the shoulder with the wooden end, attempting to waken him. He didn’t move, and his breaths seemed shallow.

“Zih’rak?” Rylan called, even his name didn’t stir him. Putting the axe to one side he got on one knee and with both hands shook the Troll’s shoulders. “Zih’rak!” He raised his voice, the word bouncing off the walls of the cave. The Troll refused to open his eyes. “Wake up!” He shouted louder, roughly shaking his pale blue, sweat covered shoulders. Yellow eyes suddenly snapped open, a three fingered hand found its way around Rylan’s neck. He gasped for air, his own hands trying to pry the one off from around his neck.

“S-stop.” Rylan only manged to whisper as air was refused entry into his lungs. The Trolls eyes suddenly widen in realisation, his steal clasp on the fragile Human’s neck, broken by his own doing. Rylan feel back, coughing and gasping for air at the same time. His throat burned with pain as much as his leg did, his lungs now no longer use to the sensation of air passing through them.

“Mon, I be sorry” Zih’rak sincerely apologised, wiping sweat from his face in a swift movement with one hand. He attempted to get to his feet, but an unpleasant feeling swirled in his stomach. He knelt for a second, Rylan staring him down as he was only just managing to catch his breath.

“Find us water then we continue on.” Rylan ordered, but there was shock in his croaky voice. He retrieved both weapons, before exiting the cave. Zih’rak got to his feet, using the wall behind him to get him there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hope your enjoying the story, please let me know what you think. See you soon.


	4. Past

Again, the unlikely duo found themselves searching for water, their throats dry, tongue like sandpaper against the roof of their mouths. Rylan let the sweat cut groves through the dirt on his face, allowing the drops to glide down his neck willingly. The sensation a distraction from the heat and need of water, however the pain irradiating from his leg was doing a much better job. Rylan stumbled, tripping on his leg that he had been dragging along. He caught himself on a tree, the thick, sharp bark threatening to cut his hand. Zih’rak stopped and turned around, having heard the Human stumble. Rylan tried to right himself, digging one palm even deeper into the tree. But his effort where in vain, his body craved food and water, his muscles refused to work as they once did. In a swift motion Rylan was suddenly pulled from the tree, Zih’rak having a hold of his arm he pulled him forward. Even when Rylan’s leg gave out beneath him, Zih’rak pulled him back up with only one hand. The Troll seemed in fighting from, but Rylan knew he was hiding the effects of the snake’s venom.

“Can ya not heal your wound?” Zih’rak demanded, clearly annoyed by the inconvenience.

“I’m too weak.” Rylan managed to croak out through his tortured throat.

“Where be ya light now?” The Troll mocked, letting leaves collide with Rylan’s face as he navigated the Jungle. Zih’rak stopped, still keeping Rylan on his feet with a firm grip on his arm, the grip so tight Rylan could feel his fingers numbing. A clearly used dirt path sat in front of them, branches and trees had been cut back to allow easy transport through the overgrown Jungle.

“Down!” Zih’rak shoved Rylan back into cover, falling backwards he had to bite his lip to ensure he would not cry out.  Seconds later a band of Horde rounded the corner, the Troll waited for them not attempting to hide.

“Throm-Ka” Zih’rak seemed to great in a friendly manner, Rylan watched only just able to see the Troll and approaching Horde through the leaves from his position on the floor. Once the band of Horde closed in a conversation sparked, Rylan attempted to listen their words meaning nothing to him, all he could tell was that there seemed to be no hostilities between them. The brown skinned orc seemed to lead the band, there weapons where bloodied. He tried to banish the thought that it was the blood of his people, of his friends. The leader of the group then seemed to wish Zih’rak to join them, he placed a hand on his shoulder attempting to convince him. The Troll glanced into the bushes where Rylan lay. More words where passed between the leader and Zih’rak before the band of Horde moved on. They were soon out of sight round the bend and Zih’rak hand reached down grabbing Rylan’s arm, he hoisted him up and forced him to the other side of the path, where they continued on the route they were going through the jungle.

“I be right, water not be far.”

“Where they from the battle?” Rylan blurted by accident, his eagerness to ask the question getting the better of him.

“Yes.” Zih’rak gave a delayed response as he helped the Human along. Rylan could feel that the Troll’s grip was no longer so tight, the snake bite on his forearm seemed even more inflamed and the green veins had spread further up his arm.

“How did it end?”

“Da Horde forced ya people back… casualties be on both sides.” Both the Troll and Human felt conflicted, both travelled with an enemy that had willingly slaughtered each other’s people. But still the Troll sought death, protecting a Human who he would have quickly killed in battle.

* * *

Zih’rak refused to let Rylan collapse, his leg begged not to go any further, his make shift bandages where covered in blood.

“It be not far.” Zih’rak assured, his own voice seemed strained, a cough lingering in his throat. Amongst strange ruins they stumbled upon what they had been desperately searching for, the almost dried up pond sat directly in the sunlight, trees that had once protected it had been shot down by cannon fire. They stood in the grave yard of splintered bark, some trunks having crashed into the ruins causing them to crumble.  Zih’rak placed Rylan down by the small body of water, the sun burnt the top of his head, his ears already scabbing due to their time trekking through the overgrowth.

“I will find ya food, heal ya wound.” The Troll didn’t even attempt to drink before heading back out into the wilderness.

“I don’t know if I-”

“Heal ya wound.” Zih’rak interrupted, as he disappeared amongst the greenery, his pale blue skin and yellow tattoos surprising’s allowing him to vanish so easily.

Rylan cupped water in his hands, it was warm and unpleasant, but he drank anyway. The strange birds chirp around him, critters scrambled along the ground somewhere in the bushes. Zih’rak who now carried both axes had left Rylan unarmed. This did not please Rylan, nor would it anyone left in dangerous territory. After ten minutes of drinking and resting Rylan decided to peel back the bandages around his leg, even though his stomach still growled out for food, he defiantly felt his strength had returned. The puncture holes created by the razor-sharp raptor teeth were becoming infected, residue forming around the crusted scabs, the skin red and inflamed much like the Troll’s snake bite.  He laid his hand down on wound, closing his eyes he mumbled under his breath a pray to the light. In his head cursing himself for having be so quick to train in the art of battle, he now was paying the price for choosing conflict and death so quickly. As he suspected he open his eyes to find the wound the same, the pain still shooting up his leg. A crashing from the bushes causes Rylan to catch his breath, the sun only just starting to descend from its peak in the sky but he could see no foe.  Rylan forced his legs to work, dragging himself to his feet, a sense of guilt driving him to. A dying Troll was out there looking for food, for him, the least he could do was help. Taking note from last night’s meal he didn’t have to stray far before he came across light brown mushrooms, he began picking them when another noise amount’s the bushes startled him. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t blink. Zih’rak then stumbled through the foliage, his head was down as he cradled an assortment of food.

“Ya don’t wanna be eaten that.” He told Rylan, only just lifting his head. His body was drench in his own sweat, the snake bite visibly painful, the green veins now traveling all the way up his arm. “They be poison, da ones with colour be safe.” Zih’rak said as they walked the few meters back to the shallow pond.

“Bright colour use ta mean poison, when the jungle was young, but da plants and animals adapted to survive. Us Trolls know of da change, those from other lands, young animals.”  Zih’rak was clearly struggling to stand up, even talking seeming to drain him of whatever strength. “They die ta the poison.” Zih’rak finished, having to let himself sit down.  Rylan sat in front of him, one question on his mind.

“You knew the snake was deadly, didn’t you?” Rylan knew the answer before it left his lips, the image of the black snake in mind.

“I did.” Light seemed to have left the Troll’s yellow eyes as he struggled to keep his head up.

“Why save me?” Silence followed, Rylan didn’t think he would get an answer.

“Ya remind me of ma younger self, Paladin.” Zih’rak took a shaky breath. “The light left me long ago.” Millions of questions rushed through Rylan’s head at once, he found himself leaning closer wanting to learn more.

“You’re a Paladin?”

“I was a Prelate of Rezan, one of the highest orders of holy warriors to serve any Loa.”

“Was?” Rylan couldn’t help himself, one question coming after the next.

“The light of Rezan has left us. Only a handful of those that followed da king of the Loa will have any sort of power, and even they are suspect. I am broken, along with many of ma brothers and sisters.” Rylan then pieced the answer he had originally been looking for together.

“You wanted to die.” Rylan realised, the Troll’s initial silence was confirmation that he was right.

“Our path was da elite, taking only those gifted from birth with prowess in battle and gifted by da Loa, crafting champions of light to defend our empire.” The Troll spoke with pride, with passion, but his head soon hung. “Our life was devotion, now there is nothing.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed please let me know. See you soon.


	5. Final Stand

Rylan left the Troll be for a moment, his barrage of questions finally coming to an abrupt end.  Zih’rak was trembling even though the heat was unbearable as sweat poured from his skin. He clutched him bitten arm, holding it against his chest and he slouched over. He didn’t even look, when Rylan retrieved something from a small bag on his belt.Rylan held out a small folded up bit of paper and offered it to Zih’rak, in his state It took a second for him to notice. The Trolls shaky hand gently grasped the folded bit of paper, he took care in unfolding it, it being no bigger than the buckle on Rylan’s belt. An image of a golden haired Human female sat holding a baby, was printed on the worn paper. The baby was wrapped in gorgeous white linin as it was cradled carefully in the woman’s arms.

“That’s my wife Lauren, and my daughter Jayla.” Rylan explained while Zih’rak continued to study the image, holding the thin paper delicately.

“Why do ya show me dis?” Zih’rak voice seemed raspier, he obviously was not in fighting form.

“They are what give me strength, they are my light.”

“How can they give ya power?” The Troll demanded in disbelief, his eyes locking with Rylan.

In response Rylan laid a hand on his leg, his fingers brushing over his wound.

“They remined me of what’s good in the world, what I’m fighting for.” He closed his eyes. Again, like before he mumbled a prayer under his breath. This time there was an answer, light shone from under his hand, and when his hand was pulled away the wound may have still remained, however had clearly been healed somewhat. The punctures where no longer so deep, a substance no longer seeped from the cracks in the scabs. “They are my light.” Rylan repeated.

“I had a son.” Zih’rak suddenly said, he looked up for a second letting the sun hit his face. The beads of sweat glistened in the rays. “Ma mate died birthin’ him.” Zih’rak looked back down, a wave of pain washing over him causing him to clutch his arm tighter. “He died not long lata’ from a sickness.” Zih’rak glided one of his finger over the image he held before holding it out with a shaky hand. Rylan took it back and tucked the photo away.

“Da light remained with me when they died.”

“You may have lost them, doesn’t mean they don’t drive you.” Rylan could feel the sun burning the back of his neck, but he refused to move, afraid of breaking the moment. “Whenever you believe this light of the Rezan left you, conflict within yourself brought up a wall between you and light.” Rylan continued when Zih’rak didn’t respond. “You just have to find something strong enough, a new purpose to break through.”

* * *

The air had been tense, after not only Rylan’s realisation of the Troll’s true motives for saving his life, but also that fact that Zih’rak was like him, a warrior of the light. They had eaten in silence before agreeing to rest nearby and continue their journey at night. Zih’rak warned that not far the Horde and Alliance were in a constant state of battle, both trying to gain territory. This triggered a thought in Rylan’s tired mind, he recalled where he was, and he knew an Alliance camp was not far. Even with the knowledge of the location Zih’rak warned that there was still a large amount of Horde activity in the area, it would be suicide to travel in daylight. The nights may be humid and filled with unknown threats lurking in the dark, but Rylan trusted Zih’rak, he had brought him this far and shared his story. At first, he refused the thought, but Rylan is slowly started accepting the Troll as no longer an enemy, but a friend.

* * *

At first Rylan fell asleep immediately, with his stomach satisfied from the food Zih’rak had gathered and exhaustion pulling him to the ground, his body craved sleep. But he awoke a few hours later the sun only just setting, the gloom that had covered the jungle had returned, shadows being cast, and the sun started to slip out of sight. Still tired Rylan closed his eyes wanting an hour or so more of sleep, but a noise brought him into an upright position. Zih’rak lay like the previous night, curled in on himself, shivering terribly. His breathing was shallow, and his skin a very pale blue. The inflamed bite on his arm standing out in the fading light. Rylan crawled over, concern driving him, the bush that they had found cover in forced him to keep low. With the Troll’s back to him Rylan took hold of his shoulder and pulled Zih’rak onto his back.

“Zih’rak?” The Trolls eyes didn’t even open. The green veins originating from the bite, had now travelled to his shoulder and across his chest, heading for his heart. “Zih’rak?” Rylan repeated trying to stay quiet, not knowing what foe might be nearby. When his name didn’t stir the shivering Troll Rylan tapped at the side of his face, watching out for the tusks. This brought Zih’rak round, but only just. He just stared up at Rylan with barely open eyes.

“Leave me.” Zih’rak breathed out a whispered.

“What, no.” Rylan protested, he couldn’t leave the Troll to die not after all he had done for him. Even with his motives he had still saved his life over and over, he could have easily sat and just waited to die from the snake bite, but he had chosen to help him instead. A Human, a member of the Alliance.

“You promised to get me to the camp did you not?” Rylan attempted to provoke Zih’rak to get him to fight on. “Does a Troll go back on his word?” These words sparked something in Zih’rak, he attempted to sit himself up but, in the end, required Rylan’s aid. Once on their feet and with the Troll’s arm around his neck each holding an axe in their free hand they made their way through the darkening jungle.

* * *

Rylan’s leg might have been slightly healed, did not mean it didn’t hurt. He struggled under the Troll’s weight, who every now and then was unresponsive and would grow heavier. The only way now to bring him round to apply pressure to the snake bite, the pain bringing him back to the land of the living. Rylan wanted to be giving words of encouragement, but in the dark surrounded by vines and shrubbery he wasn’t sure if he was even going in the right direction. Zih’rak has dropped his axe long ago, so now they only had one weapon between them as Rylan struggled to lug the Troll over rough terrain. The Troll’s legs gave out on him, his arms slipped from around Rylan’s neck and he hit the floor hard. Rylan put the axe he carried down and attempted to heave Zih’rak back to his feet. With exhaustion chipping away at his strength and the Troll going limp he couldn’t get him off the moist jungle floor. The moon was about to shroud itself, darkness would fall over them.

“Zih’rak you cannot give up now!” Rylan was angry, frustrated.

“We knew… dis would be ma fate.” Zih’rak mumbled, his eyes where closed his head resting on a tree root.

“I can get you help, I will get you help.” Rylan again tried to pull him up but to no avail.

“Da Alliance will only grant me what ya refuse to… Death.” The Troll’s yellow eyes slowly opened. They were sad, pain filled them.

“I can’t let you die.” Rylan didn’t notice the tear slide down his cheek, merging with the sweat dripping for his face already.

“Go home… Ma friend.” The Troll’s eyes slowly closed, his breathing becoming worse. The thought of loss, the Troll’s words brought out a strength in Rylan. He hauled Zih’rak into a sitting position and crouching pulled Zih’rak over his back before retrieving his axe and standing.

“You will not die this day.”  The moon then vailed itself, plummeting the world into what seemed to be a never-ending void.

* * *

Rylan’s eyes struggled to adjust to the dark, both his legs burned under the weight of both him and Zih’rak. Using the axe, he still held in one hand he navigated his way through the Jungle, keeping close to trees to attempted to go in a straight line. He had no clue what he was going to do when he finally reached the Alliance camp, he had no way to explain in time before they had the Troll’s head on a spike. He quickly decided he would hide Zih’rak outside the camp and retrieve a trusted healer. Rylan suddenly felt no more trees to guide him, he had entered a clearing. At this point the moon decided to bless the world below with its light. In the small clearing stood a group of Horde who appeared to be setting up camp for the night. Either due to being lost in his own pain or thought, Rylan had failed to hear any indication that they were up ahead. They spotted him instantly, the group shouting to each other in a language Rylan did not understand. Before the Horde charged him, he lowered Zih’rak into the grass and held with axe with both hands.

“Come on then!” He cried as the four orcs rushed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that chapter, more to come.


	6. My Friend

The axe went straight into one of green Orcs chest, Rylan didn’t have a chance to pull it free before he had to dodge out the way of a flurry of blades. One caught his arm but did not cut deep. He was now unarmed, the axe in the Orc coughing up his own blood on the ground. With wild eyes another Orc rushed him, long sword raised above his head. Spinning to the side and grabbing the handle of the weapon as it came down, Rylan disarmed the Orc, the Orc’s weapon now in Rylan’s hands. He drove the blade through the Orc, pure survival instincts kept him going, adrenalin giving him strength. As he pulled the blade free a small dagger struck his shoulder, making him take a couple of shaky steps back. The tips of his fingers brushed the daggers blood stained hilt, his own blood now adding to what seemed to be a collection of those who had fallen. His glassy eyes found his attacker, the final orc. He savagely pulled the axe free from the orc’s friends corpse. The moons gracious light giving him clear sight in the night, Rylan pulled the dagger painfully free in one quick motion. He didn’t let himself cry out, only letting out a soft grunt. His and the Orc’s eyes locked before their weapons where clashing against each other. It felt good to have his hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword, the weapon was poorly made and unbalanced, but it would do. Imbuing it with holy light, the sword glowed a pale yellow. He stuck the Orc in the side, the light causing the wound to bleed more but as Rylan went to swing again he felt a boot against his back, forcefully kicking him face first into the ground. His weapon was kicked away from him as more Orc’s entered the clearing. Again, they spoke words he did not understand, as he spat dirt from his mouth. His hair was then violently grabbed by big green fingers before hoisting his head up. But before the Orc could put a dagger to his tender throat a yellow light burst around him. Cracks of light covered the floor, stunning and burning the Orcs but not effecting Rylan. Rylan on his hands and knees, followed the crack of light with his eyes to their origin. Zih’rak lay eyes open light bursting from them, palm down on the ground, the cracks of light spreading from under his hand. He watched as the Troll’s eyes no longer glowed and his body go limp, Rylan tried to scramble for a weapon, the Orc’s quickly regaining themselves. But finally, his injuries allowed him to go no further, his arms collapsed under him and he found himself laying on his chest face to the side. He slowly started to pass out, blood pouring for his shoulder. Cries of fear then rang from the Orc’s and the thuds of something approaching echoed in the floor. Rylan’s eyes closed and the last thing he felt was being lifted up off the ground.

* * *

Rylan felt warm, clean. His cloths no longer where stuck to his filthy skin via dirt and sweat. His hair no longer clung to his forehead, sweat no longer dripped down his nose. He was happy. Until he tried to move. A pain raced around his body, his eyes snapped open and he was sat up.

“Major Dalton please try and remain still.” It felt like it had been years since Rylan had been called by his rank and last name, when in truth it had only been a couple of long painful days in the humid jungle. A young priest sat beside him as he lay in a makeshift bed, only now did he notice the moans and groans of the wounded around him. His eyes glanced around, he found himself in a medical tent, healers tending to the wounded. One thought suddenly came to mind as the priest tried to push Rylan’s back, back against the bed.

“Zih’rak!” He remembered, he forcefully pushed the priest’s hand away and swung his legs off the bed. He could now see he was in a set of fresh cloths, another cream cotton tunic and a pair of soft light brown loose leather trousers. Pain then ran through his leg and shoulder, making his face scrunch in pain.

“Major Dalton you need to rest.” The Priest persisted. “Your wounds have been closed but there is still some healing to be done.”

“Where is the Troll!?” Rylan demanded as he pushed himself up onto his feet, the priest had to balance him.

“Your safe now he cannot harm you here.” The Priest understandable misunderstood Rylan’s thought process.

“Where is the Troll, did they bring him back here?” Rylan asked, he then spotted his boots at the end of the bed and retrieved them, bending down a painful task for both his leg and arm.

“They did.” The Priest replied.

“Why?” Rylan pulled on his boots, trying to get as much information off of the young girl before rushing off.

“I’m not sure, the general has called many healers to its cell, that is all I know.” Rylan could tell she spoke the truth.

“His.” He corrected her. Knowing he would get nothing more from the priest Rylan made his way for the door as quickly as he dare. But the door swung open before he could grab the handle and a familiar face came into view.

“Rylan?” The bearded man asked with a smile.

“Darrius.” Rylan recognised his close friend immediately, and they quickly embraced in a hug.

“I thought you were dead, not until they found your ass fighting an army of Horde by yourself.” Darrius said as he patted his friend on the back, clearly glad to be able to be doing so. Rylan pulled away.

“The Troll, where is the Troll?” Rylan got straight to the point.

“Here in the garrison, under lock and key.” Darrius was clearly intrigued by Rylan’s interest.

“I need to see him.” Rylan tried to walk past his friend, but a firm grip latched onto his arm. A stinging sensation erupted from his shoulder.

“Why so interested in the Troll?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Darrius kept a hold of Rylan, not letting him go anywhere.

“You know we’ve being trying to get a live Zandalari Troll for interrogation, this is the first time we’ve been able to get a hold of one.” He explained. “Not sure how long it’s got left though, bastard dying from some sort of bite he must have got in the jungle.” Darrius looked away, clearly disappointed with the time the Troll has to live.

“No wonder you were able to take him on.” Darrius joked, finally letting go of Rylan’s arm and giving him a gentle nudge with a fist.

“I did not fight the Troll, there are things you do not understand, but I need you to trust me Darrius.” His friends face was suddenly covered with concern.

“What are-’

“If you won’t take me to the Troll I will find him myself.” Rylan interrupted. The urgency in his voice stopped Darrius from asking anymore questions, his friends’ choice of disrespectful tone towards him surprising. They locked eyes.

“This way.” Darrius then replied, only waiting a second before turning and leading Rylan out the tent, leaving the priest to tend to the other wounded.

* * *

It was dark, a damp musty smell attacked Rylan’s nostrils. A small slit for a window revealed little as the sun was hidden by storm clouds. The air outside seemed to grow stiff, the sky grumbled. Darrius and Rylan approached the loan cell. Metal bars from floor to ceiling, cold stone surrounded them. The sun suddenly broke free slightly, providing enough natural light to see what lay in the shadows. Zih’rak lay, his breathing hardly visible, a quite wheeze only now audible due to the shuffling of feet on stone having stopped. Rylan rushed up against the bars, hands gripping the door trying to open the door.

“Open the door!” Rylan demanded, his eyes not leaving the broken Troll’s body.

“What is going on, what is the importance of this Troll?” Darrius had had enough, there were to many unanswered questions for him to continue on so blindly.

“He saved my life.” Rylan simply told him, hoping the truth would get through to his old friend. Darrius looked from Rylan to the Troll, before turning around to make sure no one was watching. Pulling a key from a pouch in his belt Darrius handed it to Rylan. Questions still overwhelming his thoughts. In seconds Rylan was in the cell on his knees by Zih’rak, pulling the Troll off his side. His eyes slipped open, the movement waking him.

“Rylan?” Zih’rak croaked, hearing the Troll say his name brought a smile to his face.

“I would ask if you’re ok but…” Rylan tried to bring humour to the dire times, the fate of the Troll not looking good. Zih’rak smirked, only able to wheeze in reply. His eyes starting to close.

“Zih’rak you cannot give up now, do you not remember the light remains in you. You proved that to me and yourself.” Rylan recalled seeing the yellow light burst from the ground and the Troll’s eyes before he passed out.

“I know mon, but ma time is almost up.” The Troll’s body visibly trembled, Rylan ran his hand over his eyes, pushing back his own tears. Zih’rak was his friend, and it wasn’t easy watching a friend die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been a while, but I want to finish this story, don't know when it will be fished but it will be finished. See you soon.


	7. Brother

“There must be something we can do.” Rylan stood up from the Trolls side. Even with the light now having returned to Zih’rak, he still didn’t have the will or hope to live. But Rylan could not let him give up, he couldn’t let the Troll die, not after he saved his life so many times. Darrius couldn’t understand the dedication and the emotion behind his friends’ words, his words in effort to save the life of their enemy.

“What does this Troll owe you Rylan?” Darrius voice was quiet, not wanting to alert anyone passing by the unusual conversation.

“After the battle we were trapped, we fought.” Rylan recalled the events all too well. “Then even after trying to kill each other he saved my life, and he knew the danger when he took that bite for me.” Rylan look down at the shivering pale form of the Troll, sweat covered his fragile body. “And even with death coming to claim him, he still gave his word to get me home.” Rylan now stared Darrius in the eyes, trying to show somehow that this Troll was not his enemy. Darrius took a deep breath, not breaking eye contact with his friend.

“The healers have tried everything.” Darrius was struggling to feel bad for the Troll, not having the experiences Rylan have had. The life and death situation he had faced with the Troll, the feeling of having to rely on an enemy for survival. “There’s nothing we can do for him.” Darrius revealed the last thing Rylan wanted to hear, the words he never wanted to hear at that moment in time. Silence fell between them; the only sound was coming from Zih’rak as he struggled to breath. Darrius turned away, ready to walk out and leave his friend with the dying Troll. He suddenly stopped a thought coming to mind.

“There’s a group of Zandalari Troll’s, not too far from here.” Hope sparked in Rylan’s eyes.

“We can take him to them, they can help him.” Rylan kneeled back next to Zih’rak, finally having a plan to repay the Troll for saving his life.

“Rylan even if I could help you, it would be suicide.” Darrius argued, annoyed with himself for even suggesting it. “They would kill you on sight.”

“You won’t help us that’s fine, I will do this without you, but you best stay out of our way.” Rylan threatened as he took the Troll’s good arm in hand. Pulling Zih’rak up into a sitting position. Darrius wanted to stop his friend, to tell him he had lost his mind, that what he wanted to do was delusional. However, he couldn’t. He could not think of a single reason that Rylan would put his life on the line to save an enemy, unless he had one god damn good reason.

“I can get you out of here, once in the jungle you’re on your own.” Darrius entered the cell and helped Rylan lift Zih’rak to his feet.

* * *

Back in the jungle rain now pelted down from the sky, causing the once hard and dehydrated ground to soak up water until it couldn’t no more. Causing the ground to become soft, dirt turning to mud, puddles now all around them. Rylan practically dragged Zih’rak through the mud, but he kept him on his feet, he kept moving forward.

“Rylan.” Zih’rak croaked, the sweat on his face now undisguisable from the rain.

“Keep going.” Rylan replied, pushing the Troll as hard as he could, pushing his own still healing leg and body to the limit. His feet sinking into the mud, making each step harder than the last. He recalled the directions Darrius had given, the final hug his friend gave him, hoping it wouldn’t be the last. He wasn’t sure how far they had travelled, everything in the jungle looking the same.

“Rylan please.” Zih’rak legs gave up, his knees hitting the mud, but Rylan pulled him back up.

“It can’t be far.” Rylan pleaded to the Troll to keep going, to himself to not give up.  They reached a clearing, no longer having to weave through trees and step over large plants and roots. The mud however was thicker, less leaves above to halt the rains fall.

“Rylan.” Zih’rak said again, this time pulling away from him. Letting himself full to his side in the mud.

“It can’t be far, we must be close!” Rylan shouted, not caring who heard. He tried to take the Troll’s arm but was pulled to his knees by the Troll’s side instead.

“Mon listen to me.” Zih’rak wheezed, his fingers still around Rylan’s arm. “Da is nothin’ they can do, even ma own people will not be able to save me from death.” Zih’rak told him, badly out of breath.

“There must be something?” Rylan pulled the Troll’s head into his lap, rain continued to slam down onto both of them. Zih’rak weakly shook his head in reply.

“Mon, now ya must do as ya promised.” Zih’rak rasped, pain riddled his body. Rylan shook his head like a child, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“You can’t ask that from me, not now.” Rylan looked down at the dying Troll, at his friend.

“Ya must.” Zih’rak tried to close his eyes but Rylan shook him awake.

“I can’t, I can’t let you die.” Tears rolled down Rylan’s cheeks, his face growing warm and red.

“Don’t tell me Human’s go back on da word?” Zih’rak managed to joke, a smirk visible on his pale face.

“Zih’rak I can’t kill you, please don’t ask me to do this.” He begged, he pleaded to his friend. Rylan suddenly took the Troll’s snake bitten arm, placing his palm over the wound. Light seeped from his shaking hand, putting everything he could into healing his friend. Rylan slouched weakly, having only just wasted energy.

“Mon go home, live ya life with ya woman and child.” Zih’rak took Rylan’s hand in his own, a smile still on his face. “Live da life I wanted.”

“But I would never have been able to live this life, not if you hadn’t have saved me.” Rylan cried, clasping the Troll’s hand.

“There’s nothin’ left for me here, ma woman and boy wait for me on da other side.” Now tears rolled from the Troll’s eyes, streaming down his face before merging with the rain.

“That’s not true, you need to go back to your fellow Paladins, show them the light has not yet left them.” Rylan couldn’t comprehend it, that he was going to fail, that his friend was going to die.

“If da was more time mon, I would.” Suddenly the Troll’s breathing hitched, each shallow breath he took looked as if it was going to be his last.

“Zih’rak.” Rylan mumbled, his face scrunched in sadness.

“We may… have… once fought.” Zih’rak struggled to speak. “Had once been… enemies.” He could no longer even gasp. “But I am proud… honoured… ta call ya friend.” The Troll’s eyes began to close.  “Even brother.” Rylan did not force Zih’rak to keep his eyes open. Instead nodded in reply, still looking down at his friend as he closed his eyes.

“As am I Zih’rak, you will for every be my friend. Forever my Brother.” Rylan had to watch as the Troll’s smile faded, his breathing stop, he had to feel his body go limp in his arms. Rylan hung his head, just letting his emotions take him, his own tears hitting his brother’s face.

* * *

Rylan cried, he just sat in the mud and cried. Only when someone had given their life for yours, and died in your arms, a death you could not prevent. Only then would you understand the pain, the torment his mind was being forced to endure. A Troll, a Human, he no longer saw a difference. He was his brother of war and would forever remain that way. The rain never stopped, keeping Rylan company as he mourned.

“You brought me home.” Rylan lifted his head. “I will get you home.” With all his strength he heaved his dead brother onto his back, the mud making it hard to keep his grip. “This I can promise you, this promise I will keep!” He shouted out, the jungle his witness to his words and the promise he made. He didn’t count the steps he took, the time or distance he was away from the ruins. He just walked till he found them.

“I’m sorry.” He called out, no one having appeared when he approached. He could see a fire under some cover, but no one was in sight. “I couldn’t save him.” He sobbed. “But I bring him back to you, to his people. Zih’rak was my brother in the end, he was family.” Rylan wasn’t sure if anyone was there to listen, but he trusted that there was.

“I trust you to give him the proper burial he deserves.” Rylan only now lowered his brother to the ground, with gentle hands he laid his head back.

“May the light forever be by your side.” Rylan finally said his goodbye. He stood and turned, he begged himself not to look back as he walked away, screamed at himself internally to not do that to himself. He had almost made it when he couldn’t help himself, his head turning to look over his shoulder. Zih’rak was gone, his body having been taken. He stood stunned for a moment, but the fact that they had not attacked or threatened him showed in some way that whoever had taken the body was grateful. Rylan for the first time in days walked through the jungle alone.

* * *

Darkness was all Zih’rak could see, but he could hear much more. His name was being called, many voices beckoned him. The woman he had long since loved and never stopped loving, he could even hear the cries of his son. Vison was suddenly given to Zih’rak and the Loa of death stood right in front of him. Bwonsamdi. The large Troll looked down on him, taking a step to the side to let him pass. To let him pass to the other side.

“Ya made some strange friends in life mon.” The Loa told him.

“I did.” Zih’rak simply replied, the memory of the last words Rylan spoke to him still fresh in his mind.

* * *

Days after Zih’rak passed, and Rylan had returned his body to his people, Rylan himself returned home. Darrius arranging an honourable discharge from the army, arguing the fact that his wife and child needed him and that he had already given so much to the Alliance. Before he knew it he was on a boat, heading back to Stormwind, back home. At the docks his wife stood waiting with their daughter in her arms, having heard of his return. She shed tears before his arms were even around her, he wanted to say so much, to hold his daughter all in the same moment. Weeks then passed, and it was strange to be back home, to sit holding his young daughter in his arms, only just starting to say her first words. He was used to holding a sword in place of his child, but as time passed his love for his daughter took over his love of battle. After what Zih’rak had taught him about life, how precious it was and how it could be snatched away just like that. He missed the Troll and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. In his day dream he didn’t hear his wife approach.

“This just came for you.” There was worry in her tone as she handed over a heavy sealed envelope. The blue wax Alliance symbol clear as day, the letter having travelled from the warfront. She feared the worst, that they were calling for his return. Once the envelope was opened and a letter revealed  he recognised Darrius’s writing immediately. Rylan clutched his daughter as tears formed in his eyes.

“What is it?” She asked scared. Rylan read the words of the letter again and again and again. Not believing what he was reading.

‘Rylan,

I write to you informally to bring you news and words from an old friend. Not too long ago once you receive this letter I found myself patrolling around our camp one night alone. Out from the Jungle something approached, I had to pinch myself having of course remembered the story you had told me. But their he was Rylan, Zih’rak stood right in front of me. I thought he was a ghost before he approached, his smile was genuine even after what I did. However, it wasn’t me he was after, it was you. I informed him of course that you had returned home, he chuckled at that, he seemed pleased. He asked me to pass a message on and that’s why I write to you now, these next words I write for him.

Rylan, you never gave up hope, you never believed that I would die. But die I did, not by your doing not by anyone’s. You brought me home, and my people preyed to our Loa of death to return me to the land of the living, promising him that my time was not yet done. He replied and that allows me to speak to you this day. To thank you for giving me back a purpose, to find another family, to teach my fellow Paladin’s that the light has not yet left us. I wish I could teach them the kindness of the Alliance, but we both know I cannot. However, I will tell them of a Human, a Human I am able to call brother. A Human who will forever be a part of my family. If we do not find each other again in this life, I am glad to have met you Rylan. Maybe one day this world will find peace, however I don’t believe it will be in our lifetime. Light be with you brother.’

Rylan wiped the tears from his face, he turned to his wife smiling, handing her the letter.

“He’s alive.” Was all he said as her eyes scanned the page, a hand met her face in shock. Still holding the envelope, Rylan felt something still within, with his daughter still on his lap he tipped the remaining contents into his other hand. Out fell a small hand carved wooden figure of a coiled snake, its fangs visible and large, one wooden while the other seemed to be real. Rylan could only guess it was pulled from Zih’rak himself, the fang from the deadly snake that had taken his life. Rylan put it on the table next to him, he hugged his daughter as she stared at it with big beautiful eyes. Rylan’s wife’s hand now on his shoulder in support as her own tears fell from her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this story, even though might not be one of my most popular but I'm so glad I finished it. Hope to see you soon in whatever story I write next.


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